


Roll the dice

by Fourleaves_Clover



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Crime, Debt, Fluff, Gambler Issho, Idiots in Love, M/M, OPAdmiralsWeek2020, Romance, Running Away, Yakuza Sakazuki, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26492344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fourleaves_Clover/pseuds/Fourleaves_Clover
Summary: Day 3: Conflict ||Crime AU"I'm a gambler, not an idiot.""That's only reassuring if you're a good gambler, otherwise I imagine it's the same difference."Part of One Piece's Admirals Week 2020
Relationships: Akainu | Sakazuki/Fujitora | Issho
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11
Collections: One Piece Admirals Week 2020





	Roll the dice

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to Hamstercheese7 for helping me to fix this hot mess of a story. Special shoutouts to all the people in Discord for cheering me on while I'm feeling down! Without you guys I wouldn't be able to do this!

In every era, from ancient times to the modern days, gambling had always carried with it a special kind of allure to mankind. Perhaps it was the thrill of betting one’s luck against the odds, knowing your chances and still going for it anyway. In it, winning was just a fleeting illusion. Today’s victor could lose it all tomorrow in a matter of minutes. There was no telling when your luck would run out, the next week, the next day or maybe even the next minute.

Perhaps it was that mix of uncertainty that drew Issho in; the unknown future and the rush that came with winning and losing both in a game that combined his natural play instinct with his desire to know the future. It was all or nothing and it endlessly fascinated him.

So when Issho’s debts got a little too much for his financial capacity and the loan sharks became a little too impatient, he made no move to run away. Where would he run to anyway? Most of his family had passed and those that were still around weren’t on speaking terms with him. His blindness would make it exceedingly hard for him to find a job in a new environment as well. Alone in an unfamiliar space, jobless, without a roof over his head sounded like a horrible alternative compared to staying here continuing on with his life until what must happen, happened.

With that in mind, Issho carried on as usual. He had to stop coming to the gambling dens until his next paycheck, but he still went to work to pay the bills. He didn’t purposely run away from debt collectors or their muscle, but he didn’t advertise himself to them by making himself bold and obvious either. He took a different route to and from his home but other than that, his life didn’t change much. He supposed it was another gamble of sorts, Issho betting when his luck would run out and when they would break down his front door to demand the money he owed them. So far, he still won all the bets, but it was only a matter of time until he lost against the odds.

Time passed by as normal with Issho treating every day like it was his last, until one day, the other shoe dropped. Right in the middle of the night.

Having always been a light sleeper, Issho found himself woken up at the first sound of a fist pounding on his front door, loud and irritated. It rattled the flimsy frame, making it shake with each hard rap like the person on the other side was barely restraining themselves from breaking down the whole thing. What an impatient person. Issho put on his slippers and picked up the cane leaning against the nightstand. With a small yawn, he made his way down the familiar hallway of his humble home at a sedate pace. “I’m coming,” he informed, his movements practiced as he freed the door chain and turned the knob, opening the door.

Immediately, the musty smell of sweat and blood clinging to worn clothes greeted his nose, accompanied by heavy breathing. The muscle, Issho’s mind concluded for him. Well, he supposed he had been waiting for this.

“You’re an  _ idiot _ , Issho,” a familiar growl reached Issho’s ear, low and rumbling like an angry beast. Issho’s shoulders relaxed, and he allowed a smile to cross his face. He could recognize that voice anywhere.

“I’m a gambler, not an idiot,” he protested, stepping aside to allow the other in. “Good evening to you, too, Saka-san. It’s a little late to be visiting me, don’t you think?” he asked, amusement warmed the words as he listened to Sakazuki switch the light on, bathing the room in a pleasant glow. Not that it made a difference to Issho, but the ease of which Sakazuki moved around Issho’s house was vastly different from the first time that they met. It was such a long time ago now, thinking back. To be completely honest, Issho didn’t mind Sakazuki coming to visit him this late in the evening though. It had been a while since he dropped by.

Sakazuki let out a small huff, and Issho could almost imagine the glare he was aiming at him. “That’s only reassuring if you’re a good gambler, otherwise I imagine it’s the same difference,” Sakazuki said bluntly, dropping his full body weight on the couch with an unceremonious  _ thud _ , the leather boots he wore made a loud  _ clunk _ against the coffee table as he propped his feet up. Issho considered the words before he shrugged. He supposed Sakazuki had a point. 

Issho made his way toward a comfortable armchair and sat down as well, leaning his cane against the armrest. He listened to the sound of Sakazuki rummaging through his pocket to reach for a packet of cigarettes, lighting it up before taking a deep inhale. He was curious but he could patiently wait for the other to tell him his reason for visiting Issho so late. His patience paid off. “Pray tell, what the hell have you done that caused my Boss to personally send _ me  _ to deal with you? He doesn’t send me to deal with people unless there’s a sufficient amount of money I’m supposed to get back,” Sakazuki growled, voice heated with fury.

“Ah, so you’re here on business,” Issho let out a knowing hum. Now it made more sense. If Sakazuki wanted to pay a visit, he would have picked a more appropriate time. He could appear all hard edges and harshness at times, but Issho also knew he had more depth than met the eyes. He supposed it was a good thing then, that Issho didn’t use his vision. The corners of his lips tilted up even more when Sakazuki made an angry noise, not happy with the way Issho tried to evade him. “I lost a bet. That’s all, Saka-san,” he answered the other’s question vaguely.

“Lost a bet,” Sakazuki repeated flatly, not at all amused by Issho’s answer. “And how  _ much  _ did you lose exactly?” he asked, pulling something from his pocket, a folding knife, by the sound it made when he flicked it open. With one smooth motion, Sakazuki stabbed the weapon through the coffee table. It vibrated threateningly for a moment before Sakazuki continued, voice lowering threateningly. “My Boss expects me to bring back your hand tonight if you won’t cough up the money. I’m not here to play games. How big is your debt now?”

Issho chuckled but an angry snarl from Sakazuki silenced him. He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. It seemed that the other really wasn’t in the mood for teasing words right now. “I... Ah...” Issho hesitated for a moment. “Somewhere around... a hundred million beri, give or take?” he said, pretending not to notice the sharp inhale from Sakazuki. The other held in a lungful of air and cigarette smoke, his brain mentally calculating the mind boggling amount of money that Issho had just admitted to owing. They lived on the outer edge of society, the working poor, the underclass, the gang members, people who no one would miss if they disappeared in the middle of the night. That amount of money was something that no one would be able to pay back, unless they resorted to extremely shady methods. Issho refused to do so. There was no reasonable way he could pay off his debt and they both knew it. In his defense, the interest rates of the loan sharks had made his debt skyrocket. He didn’t actually lose that much. He just  _ owed  _ that much.

It probably wouldn’t make a big difference to Sakazuki though, who still hadn’t taken a breath yet, Issho noted. He really should soon. It was worrying.

“God,  _ Issho _ ,” the sound Sakazuki let out was strangled, like he was still in disbelief. He let out a string of vulgar curses, not even bothering to hide his frustration. The sentence cut off forcibly, like Sakazuki had decided to bite down on his tongue to stop himself. Finally, after a long moment with them staring at one another, Issho with unseeing eyes and Sakazuki with eyes that had seen too much, the later uttered, with all the fury and hidden fear laid bare for Issho to hear. “You complete  _ fool _ ,” Sakazuki pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, letting out a noise of disgust. “I need a fucking drink.”

Issho couldn’t help but point out. “Should you be drinking on the job?” he asked curiously. The ominous silence that followed was deafening, and Issho could  _ feel  _ the heat of Sakazuki’s glare on his skin. Alright, so maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned that Sakazuki was currently on the job instead of them just simply spending time with each other. He offered an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I just thought I’d ask,” he placated.

“Don’t. I’m not sure I can control my temper if you make another stupid comment,” Sakazuki scoffed. “What the hell were you thinking, taking money from those bastards? I have  _ warned  _ you that it’s a fucking awful idea. Do you know how many people are after you right now? If you survive to the end of next week without ending up in a body bag I’ll be amazed. Hell, I’m surprised your gut hasn’t ended up in the black market yet,” he ranted, pausing for a solid minute before he said through gritted teeth, the repeated insult getting more passionate each time he said it. “Issho,  _ you fucking idiot _ .”

Issho didn’t bother to make a comment this time, knowing that Sakazuki would just explode if he tried to make an excuse for himself. There wasn’t a good enough excuse anyway. He knew the risks when he accepted the loans. Issho appreciated that Sakazuki hadn’t chosen to tell him how bad his gambling was or make him quit it. He didn’t really need a lecture from anyone else to know that his gambling was a problem. It would have been highly hypocritical coming from Sakazuki anyway, given his own occupation that they both didn’t tiptoe around.

They sat across from one another, with Sakazuki obviously trying to come up with a solution to the predicament that Issho had gotten himself into. Issho had a different plan though. He leaned back, smiling fondly. “Do you still remember how we first met, Saka-san?” he asked, switching topics abruptly. Issho could still recall it clearly in his mind, of rain and a surprise waiting for him as he returned.

Sakazuki wasn’t in a hurry to reply, thinking through the question. Whether he was surprised or annoyed by the change of topic, Issho didn’t know, but he could patiently wait for him. Finally, Sakazuki responded, the hard edge in his voice softened just a fraction, enough to add a touch of fondness in the words. “Of course I do,” he said simply. Issho wondered if he was smiling speaking in that tone. He wished he could see the expression Sakazuki was making right now. “I had a dispute with the Blackbeard gang. They stole some... goods from us, so the Boss wasn’t happy. He sent me and a few others to teach them a lesson and make sure they stay in their lane the next time. Get back all the goods those bastards took from us, too,” Sakazuki said, old anger returning to the surface briefly at past hurts. “The bastards ambushed us. The next time I see that son of a bitch, I’m going to knife him,” Sakazuki said darkly. Issho just hummed, already familiar with the violent life Sakazuki led on a daily basis.

“Was that how you found me?” Issho asked. He had never heard this part of the story. And as someone who had become increasingly invested in knowing more about Sakazuki, Issho found himself wanting to learn the story of the man before him. So far, it wasn’t a lot. Here in this area though, not having a lot of past was normal, common even. Most people became a resident of this part of the city because they didn’t want a past. After living here for a few years, Issho had come to a conclusion of his own. The only past that mattered here was the blood one shed or the crimes one committed, whether by choice or otherwise and not by whatever happened before they became a part of these darkened alleyways. It was a startling conclusion to come to, realizing that he was now just as much of a blank canvas as the rest of the people. He wondered if the past he was etching to the worn old bricks of this home was of his debts.

“... Yeah,” Sakazuki answered reluctantly, a touch of embarrassment in his voice. “I got hit pretty good. My men were all dead and they were chasing me down. I managed to secure some of the goods beforehand and hid them already. If I died, I couldn’t tell the Boss and we would have lost everything. I had no choice but to find a place to lay low for a bit,” he muttered. “If it wasn’t for that, I’d have stayed behind and fought until my last breath,” it was difficult for Sakazuki to say the words, Issho knew it. If given the chance, the other would have never run away from a fight. Sometimes, Issho compared Sakazuki to the samurai of the old days that he often admired, those who would rather commit seppuku to keep their honor than to turn tail. Perhaps in another life, Sakazuki would have been someone who took to the front line with passion in his belief. Maybe Issho would have, too. He wanted to dream that in a heroic story somewhere, he would have taken up the blade to protect what he believed in as well. Perhaps with a little added gambling into that though. Issho couldn’t imagine himself as someone who didn’t like the rush the dice brought. Unfortunately, neither of them led that kind of amazing life and in most people’s eyes, Sakazuki was nothing but a common thug.

“I know it doesn’t mean much, but I’m glad you didn’t stay behind and fight,” Issho said. He meant it. Had Sakazuki stayed, they probably would have never met. Most likely Sakazuki would have ended up dead in a ditch somewhere and Issho would have never known him. Issho smiled. “I remember that day, it rained so hard,” the road home had been slippery and the walk back home had been torture. Issho remembered feeling happy to have won his bets, but also miserable from the people that ran by too fast, causing mud to splash all over him. The smile on Issho’s face widened as the next memory came. “I remember trying the keys and I thought, well, that’s odd. I always lock the house whenever I go out. And I came inside and--”

“--And you stepped on a chip bag. And it made this stupidly  _ loud  _ noise,” Sakazuki interjected smoothly. “I remember that. I heard those bastards rummaging around the area so I couldn’t just go out. I had to stay inside but they were so fucking determined to find me. Guess that’s what happens when I take their drugs,” Issho could imagine the shrug in Sakazuki’s words, the ‘oh well’ that wasn’t spoken aloud. “They were ours first, so I’m not losing sleep over it. Too bad Marshall didn’t have a heart attack and die from the lost profit. Would have eliminated one competitor for the Family,” Sakazuki snorted. “Well, I was hungry. And I went through the cabinet. Why the hell didn’t you stock up anything other than instant soba and udon? Where was the real food? Rice? Red peppers?” Issho refrained from commenting that red peppers weren’t a ‘real food’ either. Sakazuki continued with a huff. “I had to dig out your stupid chips and eat them. And then you just had to go ahead and ruin my appetite by being loud.”

Issho let out a belly laugh. “I’m sorry I only anticipated my favorite food without taking yours into consideration,” he said in amusement. “I’ll make sure to stock up on rice and red peppers for the next time someone else decides to break in and get hungry while waiting,” he added. Sakazuki huffed, and he muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘you’d better have only one intruder’. Issho could have heard it wrong though. Issho hummed. “You did eat my entire stock of chips though,” he said. “And then had the  _ gall  _ to threaten me. How rude.”

Issho could feel Sakazuki’s glare on his skin again. “What else was I supposed to do? I was eating, you caught me when I was vulnerable. I had to make sure that I had the upper hand,” he protested. Issho had been surprised by the chip bags lying around, but when he had a knife to his throat, things had taken a whole new turn completely. Sakazuki let out an exasperated noise. “The next time someone puts a knife to your throat, don’t answer with a ‘which loan shark sent you’ without them introducing themselves first. What if they are just a common thief getting desperate? You’ll just give them a perfectly convenient thing to hang onto,” he lectured.

Issho nodded dutifully. “Yes, yes, I remember now, Saka-san,” he said. “I asked if you’d like some food beside chips,” Issho couldn’t quite remember what thoughts had been running through his mind at the time. Perhaps he was still giddy from his winnings with adrenaline pumping through his veins. Or maybe he thought there was no way he could have won if he tried to fight, alone in a house with an obviously dangerous man. Maybe he thought that he should at least have some manners. A life and death situation wasn’t a good excuse after all. Or maybe he was just testing his luck again. Most likely it was some combination of all those reasons but Issho remembered being fearless and calm when he asked it, with a knife pressed against his throat hard enough that it would have cut without much effort from Sakazuki at all. “And then you stopped threatening me,” Issho smiled.

There was another loaded silence, this time filled with embarrassment again. “Well, I was still hungry,” Sakazuki protested. “Stealing drugs and running away is draining,” he said sullenly. Issho was sure it was. “You still ended up making the stupid noodles though,” Sakazuki pointed out.

Issho shrugged. Udon and Soba just happened to be his favorite food. And instant noodles weren’t difficult to prepare. He hadn’t felt like making complex food. “You still ate it,” he retorted. Sakazuki always made comments about his noodles, but he still ended up eating his fill. “Food debt is a really big debt, you know,” Issho teased. They had talked after, with mostly Sakazuki telling Issho what an idiot he was for having no self preservation instinct. It wasn’t too different from earlier actually. Perhaps there was a pattern to their meetings after all. Issho did remember Sakazuki washing the dishes when it was done. There was no way Issho would have taken that duty if he could avoid it. And Sakazuki made a mess and took refuge in his home. The least he could do was to clean that up. And then... Issho hummed thoughtfully. “You said my Baby Rubber plant was dying. And you moved it, and it’s alive and thriving now. I’ve always wondered about that,” Issho had tried to liven up his space by having plants around. Unfortunately, despite his best effort, he still ended up killing a fair few of them. That Baby Rubber had been his latest addition though, one that he was quite fond of, too. It had been under weather and Issho tried to nurse it back to life by putting it on the window sill to get more sunlight but it hadn’t been working, until Sakazuki.

“It’s an indoor plant, idiot,” Sakazuki deadpanned. “It isn’t supposed to get direct sunlight. That’s why it was  _ dying _ .”

Oh.

Well... Issho never said he had a green thumb.

There was a pregnant pause between them. Issho could hear the pinch in Sakazuki’s voice when he spoke again. “You didn’t know it was an indoor plant, did you?” he said, long suffering. Issho didn’t feel like that deserved an answer. “Why do people keep getting things that they can’t handle or don’t want? Then it ends up dying, or worse, abandoned somewhere on the street where no one takes pity on it,” the last part was added with surprising bitterness and Issho’s fingers twitched. He felt like he just heard something that he wasn’t supposed to. He reached out to feel for Sakazuki’s arm, squeezing it gently. “I’m fucking fine,” Sakazuki snapped, struggling briefly to get away from the touch before giving up the fight with a customary huff. “Don’t touch me,” he said, but didn’t shake Issho’s hand off.

Issho waited until Sakazuki’s breathing calmed down a little before he continued, trying to distract Sakazuki. “Well, you returned after that because you thought I was too irresponsible with my plants. It’s why they are growing as well as they are now,” he said. He couldn’t see it, but he knew that a few were even blooming. That had never happened under his care. Sakazuki’s hands might be deadly and bloody from all the crimes he had committed remorselessly, but he held a life that couldn’t speak for itself with unimaginable gentleness, too. It was a strange combination. It was also how Issho realized that Sakazuki was not as rotten as the smell of blood and death that clung to his skin suggested he was.

“Well, someone has to pick up your slack,” Sakazuki muttered. Issho’s life had gotten a lot more interesting after that. Sakazuki had made it a point to drop by often enough to save his dying plants, and Issho had discovered a surprisingly quiet personality within a very intense and violent person. The life Sakazuki led could fill pages of books and the things he had done were not for the easily frightened. He never directly said what he did or what his gang dealt in, but Issho could infer from his words that they didn’t bother with ‘small-time stuff’. How small would something be to be considered ‘small-time’? Issho didn’t know. Whatever it was that they did though, there were firearms, drugs, club houses and people disappearing in the middle of the night. They weren’t the kind to be trifled with.

At least Sakazuki was never shy when he spoke of his kills like he had no worry whatsoever about the possibility of Issho telling the police. Issho had never contemplated doing it though. Had the police wanted to be involved, they would have. As it was, money silenced even Justice and humanity.

And yet, in-between carving his bloody history into the cobblestone streets, Sakazuki still took the time to carefully prune each dead leaf and fuss over each plant when it needed just a little extra care. It was to his surprise that Sakazuki preferred the quietness to the loud noises, and when his life was always so busy, the precious moments were those that didn’t demand Sakazuki to pay his toll in blood, his own or the enemy’s. For a cold-blooded criminal, Sakazuki’s warmth was radiant.

It wasn’t until Issho caught himself smiling touching a flowering kalanchoe that Sakazuki brought over when he saw it dumped in the trash, barely alive that he realized he had fallen hard and fast. He couldn’t say that he regretted it. Not when he thought maybe Sakazuki felt the same way, returning to his place with more and more flowers and plants and always staying a little longer each time. Not that Issho would confess. Sakazuki didn’t seem like he handled feelings well, and Issho didn’t want to overwhelm him. It wasn’t quite pining as much as it was waiting until they were both ready for it.

The result of their new connection was that Issho’s home was now overflowing with plants, most of which Issho had learned the names of. He appeared like one of those plant-crazy people, but he  _ swore _ it was mostly Sakazuki’s fault.

It was really interesting though, if one took the time to think about it. A person leading a thrilling life searching for some peace and quiet, and a person leading a quiet life searching for a thrill. He wondered if that was what opposite attraction meant. Issho’s life always crawled by and he craved his rush in the gambling dens. Maybe Sakazuki was just that perfect mix of peace and violence that Issho couldn’t help but be drawn into.

It certainly was a matter of the heart. People had spent so much time trying to decipher it and yet had come no closer to uncovering its secrets. Who was Issho to ask why he was so attracted to this warm criminal before him? He just knew he was and that was enough for now.

“Issho,” a hand touched his own and Issho reflexively placed his own hand on top of it. Ah, he might have been too quiet for a minute there. “You need to run,” Sakazuki said, with that same intense seriousness he used in dealing with everything else in life. “It’s not safe here for you anymore. Go to the next prefecture, or better yet, pack it up and leave this country altogether.”

Issho made a noise. It was really endearing that Sakazuki apparently cared so much, but Issho couldn’t leave. “I don’t have any places to run to,” he said honestly. “I don’t have any relatives and the people that I know from before I moved here... I don’t want them to get involved with gangs or get them into trouble or make them pay for my debts,” he said. He left his past behind and he had no desire whatsoever to pick it back up. “People like us, we all have places we don’t want to go back to. That’s why we’re here. You understand that, right?” Issho smiled humorlessly.

Sakazuki breathed out a harsh sound. “Yeah, I understand that,” he said. “How about this... I have a few... acquaintances in the right place. I can help you get started on a new life, a new identity, a name and everything else, too,” he said. “You have to lie low for a bit but you can start a new life again,” Sakazuki’s hand squeezed Issho’s before releasing it. He shifted, seemingly embarrassed because of his action.

Issho couldn’t help it. He leaned closer, listening carefully to the hitched inhale from Sakazuki. “I could use a companion,” he offered. “It’d be less lonely,” he continued, unable to hide the little bit of hopefulness that seeped into the words. “Don’t you always complain how your Family isn’t like it used to be?” it was a shot in the dark, with Issho taking his chance and rolling the die. However, if he didn’t take risks, there would be no reward. He had laid his cards on the table, now it was Sakazuki’s turn to make the next move.

A long tense moment passed, long enough that Issho wondered if he had pushed too far, or misread the cues, or if he had lost this gamble after all. This was something that he didn’t want to lose though. He had been out of luck for such a long time now, he just wanted to win against the odds this one time. All or nothing.

“I... suppose my connections wouldn’t know who you are,” Sakazuki carefully said. “Consider this me returning the debt I owed you once for hiding me from Marshall and his gang,” Issho bit his tongue to stop himself from saying that he wouldn’t mind it if Sakazuki took a lifetime to pay for that debt. He wouldn’t even chase Sakazuki down like those loan sharks did. Sakazuki took a deep breath. “Go pack your things. We’re leaving tonight. Tomorrow they’ll burn down this place. Don’t worry about the plants. I’ll have them moved to the new locations. Just get whatever you truly need and keep it simple. I have some phone calls to make,” he started making phone calls to people with very concerning phrases that Issho tried not to think too hard about. He only picked up his cane and left for his bedroom to get his suitcase that he never fully unpacked.

Come to think about it, perhaps he had thought of this place as temporary, until Sakazuki appeared and made this a home. Now, he moved yet again but he didn’t feel like he had left his home behind at all. Maybe they were right when they said home was a person.

When Issho dragged his suitcase out, Sakazuki was in the process of destroying the front room, turning over the armchairs and knocking down the coffee table with a loud  _ crash _ . The smell of cigarette smoke around Sakazuki muted noticeably a moment later when he took it out between his lips and crushed it beneath his boot with an audible stomp. “Let’s go. From now on until I say it’s safe to use our names, you’re Fujitora and I’m Akainu,” Sakazuki said. A tiger and a dog? Well, Issho supposed there were odder pairs. He nodded wordlessly and Sakazuki impatiently pushed him out of the house, locking the door behind.

As they walked down an unfamiliar path with Sakazuki’s hand tightly grasped in his, Issho thought that it was strange.

He was so much more motivated to run away now.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, I math-ed a little and let's just say... Issho owed somewhere around... 980,000$ Yeah. He's... something.
> 
> Prompt by the-modern-typewriter


End file.
